GoldiJohn and the Three Bears
by TheMadKatter13
Summary: [The Tumblr Faultline series 22] The little boy called GoldiJohn was lost in the woods when he came across a lovely cottage. Scared and alone and afraid, he eagerly ran inside. Bad Fic-Off 2014 ShotaJohn / Johniarty-Johnstrade-Johnlock


**And I'm off the rails again. To be fair to me, someone from SHJW* (tumblr: shjwwriterscircle) posted this 'Bad Fic-Off 2014' to the group chat. I had to participate. I heavily encourage my readers to give it a go because it was a lot of fun. Even for someone who never writes crack like me.**

**As always, please remember, I do not condone this kind of relationship in real life. Thank you.**

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><p>The little boy called GoldiJohn was lost in the woods when he came across a lovely cottage. Scared and alone and afraid, he eagerly ran inside.<p>

On the dinning table were three streaks of white liquid. Hungry, GoldiJohn licked the first. "This one is too bitter!" he cried. He moved to the second. "This one is too thick!" he cried. He moved to the third. "This one is just right!" And he licked it all up.

Now GoldiJohn was tired and he moved to the next room where he found some nice chairs. He sat in the first. "This one is too small!" he cried. He moved to the second. "This one is too big!" he cried. He moved to the third. "This one is just right!" he cried. But then the chair broke and he pouted for a decent length of time.

GoldiJohn walked through the house until he found the beds. He stripped off his clothes and threw them onto the floor. He crawled up onto the first on his hands and knees, but didn't lay down because- "This one is too hard!" he cried. He got down then crawled up onto the second on his hands and knees, but didn't lay down because- "This one is too soft!" he cried. He got down then crawled up onto the third on his hands and knees, but didn't lay down because- "This one is just right!" he cried. And then passed out face-down, arse-up. As little boys tend to do.

Just after GoldiJohn fell asleep, the owners of the house, three beefy woodsmiths, came home. "My come tail on the come-short board has been fudged!" Jim cried. "My come tail on the come-short board has been fudged!" Greg cried. "My come on the come-short board has been eaten!" Sherlock cried.

The three bears moved into the sitting room. Jim put his hand on his chair. "My chair is warm! It's been sat in!" he cried. Greg put his hand on his chair. "My chair is warm! It's been sat in!" he cried. Sherlock went to put his hand on his chair, but it was in pieces on the floor. "My chair is in pieces! It's been sat in!" he cried.

The three bears moved into the bedroom. Jim looked at his bed. "My sheets are rumpled! Someone's been in my bed!" he cried. Greg looked at his bed. "My sheets are rumpled! Someone's been in my bed!" he cried. Sherlock looked at his bed. "My sheets are rumpled! Someone is still in my bed!"

The three bears gathered around the end of the bed to take in the the small, blond offering. Er-form. Boy. They grinned at each other and went to get the oil. Jim oiled his finger and pressed it into the tiny hole, working it until it was loose before nodding at Greg. Greg oiled his finger and pressed it into the tiny hole alongside Jim's, working it until it was loose before nodding at Sherlock. Sherlock oiled his finger and pressed it into the tiny hole alongside Jim's and Greg's, working it until it was loose before nodding at Greg and Jim. The pulled out their fingers as one and the little offering-er, boy woke up.

"Who are you?!" GoldiJohn cried, staring up at the three adult, beefy, sexy woodsmiths. His tiny little hole felt wet and empty and he needed something back in it. They never left him empty back home.

"I am Jim!" Jim cried. "I am Greg!" Greg cried. "I am Sherlock!" Sherlock cried. "We are the Three Bears!" Jim and Greg and Sherlock cried together.

"What do you want?" GoldiJohn cried, staring up at the three adult, beefy, sexy woodsmiths. He wondered if one of them would help fill his tiny hole since it was so empty. He jumped off the bed and moved to stand in front of them.

Jim moved to sit on the end of his bed. "You didn't eat all of my come and you didn't stay in my chair and you didn't stay in my bed! I want to know what you think of my cock!" he cried, pulling his hard cock from his trousers. Greg moved to sit on the end of his bed. "You didn't eat all of my come and you didn't stay in my chair and you didn't stay in my bed! I want to know what you think of my cock!" he cried, pulling his hard cock from his trousers. Sherlock moved to sit on the end of his bed. "You ate all of my come and you sat in my chair so much you broke it and you laid in my bed so much you slept in it! I want to know what you think of my cock!" he cried, pulling his hard cock from his trousers.

"Okay!" GoldiJohn cried, and moved over to Jim. He climbed up onto the first bear and sat on his cock. "It's too small!" he cried, but he obediently bounced on that too-small cock until Jim pulled out and came on his belly with a snarl. He climbed off Jim's lap, the first bear's come leaking down his belly. He moved over to Greg. He climbed up onto the second bear and sat on his cock. Or tried. "It's too big!" he cried, but he obediently bounced on that too-big cock until he could take it all and Greg pulled out and came on his face with a roar. He climbed off Greg's lap, the first bear's come leaking down his belly and the second bear's come leaking down his face. He moved over to Sherlock. He climbed up onto the third bear and sat on his cock. "It's just right!" he cried, and eagerly bounced on that perfect cock until Sherlock came in him with a growl. He climbed off Sherlock's lap, the first bear's come leaking down his belly, the second bear's come leaking down his face, and the third bear's come leaking down his thighs.

GoldiJohn hadn't been put in a cock cage or a cock ring before he'd gotten hard and he wondered if had permission to come. "Do I have permission to come?" he cried.

Jim dived for the tiny pink cock. "You didn't like my come or my chair or my bed or my cock! But you'll love my blow job!" he cried. He fellated that tiny pink cock with all his ability. "It's too dry!" the little boy cried out with his release. Jim sat back with a put-out look. But poor GoldiJohn was rather young and he got hard again immediately. Greg dived for the tiny pink cock. "You didn't like my come or my chair or my bed or my cock! But you'll love my blow job!" he cried. He fellated that tiny pink cock with all his ability. "It's too wet!" the little boy cried out with his release. Greg sat back with a put-out look. GoldiJohn was still rather young so he got hard immediately again. Sherlock dived for the tiny pink cock. "You liked my come and my chair and my bed and my cock! You'll love my blow job!" he cried. He fellated that tiny pink cock with all his ability. "It's just right!" the little boy cried out with his release. Sherlock sat back with a victorious look. GoldiJohn was finally sated and he didn't get hard immediately.

And so it went. GoldiJohn would get hard and the three bears would attempt to sexually satisfy him. Jim was always too little. Greg was always too much. Sherlock was always just right. GoldiJohn never left that lovely cottage again. Neither did the woodsmiths. The woods grew up around that lovely cottage and none of them were ever seen by anyone ever again. (Though that lovely cottage is still considered the Holy Grail of Sexual Mecca, and is still looked for to this day.)

-back at GoldiJohn's forgotten home-

"GoldiJohn has been gone a long time! I haven't felt him fall asleep on my cock in days!" John's bed cried, it's erection hard and rather erect. "GoldiJohn as been gone a long time! I haven't felt him eat on my cock in days!" John's dining table chair cried, it's erection hard and rather erect. "GoldiJohn as been gone a long time! I haven't felt him cook on my cock in days!" John's kitchen counter cried, it's erection hard and rather erect. "We have lost our GoldiJohn!" John's penis furniture (which was all of his furniture) cried in unison. And then they cried. They continued to cry, tears of a white sort falling from their erect cocks until a new Goldi-whatever happened upon their home. And then they rather forgot about GoldiJohn. But that's okay. Because GoldiJohn was even happier in the lovely cottage he'd found.

FIN

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><p><strong>I just can't get away from the shota. This is sorta letalkingmime's (tumblr) fault since she sent me a shota John thing that turned into a co-write submitted via Ask box in bits in pieces to one of the best blogs on the planet, then I wrote a sequel by myself, AND the Bad Fic-Off 2014 was put before us during all the shota-ing. Once that blog posts all the bits, they'll be reblogged to my author blog (themadkatter13-fanfiction). In the mean time, while you're waiting, feel free to drop me a Review for this thing, and don't forget to participate in the Bad Fic-Off 2014! Tschüß!<strong>


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